


Death By Water

by Lothiriel84



Series: The Waste Land [3]
Category: The Bunker (Podcast)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Explicit Language, Gen, Hangover, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.





	Death By Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsmilch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsmilch/gifts).



He tried to recall the last time he’d had to deal with a hangover, decided that this was probably one of the worst he’d experienced over the past sixty years. They had run out of booze far too soon, long before they’d even started rationing cigarettes; and while he was positive that this long overdue indulgence had been totally worth it, he still wished his head would throb just a tiny bit less, and that his mouth wouldn’t feel like he hadn’t had a single glass of water over the past four centuries.

He poured some more filtered water into his mug, winced a little when Tom accidentally knocked the jug as he tried to reach for it. They both watched with a sort of fatalistic resignation as it rolled down from the worktop, and landed on the floor with a crash and a splash of water.

“Just like my hopes and dreams,” he remarked somewhat sarcastically, taking another sip from his mug. Tom merely stared at the mess on the floor, then went to fetch an only slightly more cracked jug from the cupboard.

“Ugh, I’m never having alcohol again,” he complained as he once more collapsed onto his stool, closed his eyes as if to fight back a fresh bout of nausea. “My head feels like it’s going to split in two, and I’m starting to think even that would be preferable to the pain.”

“Oh, come on,” Dave shook his head, albeit carefully. “You barely had half of what David had, and he still drinks like a beginner.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that our alcohol supplies ran out ages ago. I’m just not used to it anymore.” Tom gulped down the rest of his water, paused with the empty glass midair, as if struck by some extremely upsetting image. “I had such horrible nightmares, I tell you.”

“Oh?” he prompted, suddenly alert. Surely Tom wouldn’t have – or would he? Well, they had all been very drunk, after all.

“I – uh, forget about it,” Tom stammered, deeply uncomfortable. “I mean, you and David would never – why would you want to – am I right?”

Dave sighed, clutched at his mug just a little tighter. “What exactly did you see, Tom?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t see – it was a dream, right? That you and David were sort of – wrestling on the floor, and then – god, please tell me it was just a dream.”

He shrugged. “Well, as you might remember, we were all a couple of bottles past sober. More than a couple, actually. We’re usually a bit more discreet than that.”

“Eww, I think I’m going to be sick again,” Tom announced, eyeing the bucket that they occasionally used when cleaning the floor. “And what do you mean by ‘usually’? You’re not telling me that all this time, you and David – oh god, I need to get out of this place.”

As if on cue, David chose that exact moment to stomp into the kitchenette, glaring at the spilt water and shards of glass that still littered the floor, then decided to take it out on the coffee machine. “Fucking piece of scrap,” he muttered between himself, quickly lost his patience before the appliance in question could even start performing its intended function. Then he met Tom’s startled gaze across the room, turned a suspicious glance on Dave who merely offered a vague shrug by way of a response.

“Oh, fucking hell,” he swore, his face like thunder. Tom promptly excused himself to the loo, and by the look of it, he was genuinely going to throw up again.

“What are you, a fucking moron?” David hissed as soon as they were left alone. “Can’t keep your big mouth shut, can you?”

“Chill out, mate,” he shrugged once more, perfectly aware of just how far he was pushing his luck. “If you want to know, Tom wasn’t as asleep last night as we thought he was, and he kinda saw us, or some of it at least. There was very little point in trying to deny it.”

“Oh, perfect. And who was the idiot who thought it might be a good idea to have a quick shag right in the middle of the fucking place?”

Dave couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, I do seem to remember someone who pushed me against a wall, and then decided to slip their hand into my pants.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You were practically begging for it. And it was your idea to distil that goddamn liquor in the first place.”

“You didn’t have to drink it though,” Dave pointed out, innocently. God help him, but he was actually starting to enjoy himself. “And if I recall correctly, I even offered to walk you to your room – you know, before things started getting out of hand.”

“Don’t you dare to try and pin this down on me,” David growled, and Dave found himself shivering in anticipation.

“Actually, never mind. You’re quite right, David; it was all my fault. I deserve some kind of punishment, am I right?”

“Oh, for the love of – are you even serious?” David looked momentarily taken aback, and Dave quickly grabbed the chance, both figuratively, and very much literally.

David’s fingers closed quite forcefully around his wrist, though he didn’t make any real effort to remove Dave’s hand.

“Your room. Now,” he commanded, and Dave was more than happy to oblige.


End file.
